revolution
by Christi Talmer
Summary: Previously under 'ImpossibleGundam'/'ChristiTalmer'. AU. A small band of rebels must fight to save their world...but one must fight to save himself.
1. Operation: Rescue?

::disclaimer::

Gundam Wing and all affiliated characters, symbols, etc. belong to Sunrise and the Sotsu Agency. I claim no ownership, and no trademark infringement is intended in the publication of this piece of fiction. The idea for this story was originally conceived by Alexander Sax of the Secret Term, and was adapted for Gundam Wing by me. Please don't come after me, Sax!

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"Hey Duo, are you sure this is going to work? There's a lot more security than our contact mentioned. You up to it?"

The jovial teenager flashed a grin at his counterpart, then surveyed the large building in front of them once more. From his rooftop vantage point, he could see almost everything that was going on inside the thick glass windows.

"Are you kidding, Tro? Shinigami never backs down from a challenge. That's what this'll be," he continued as his gaze traveled over the steel doors and telltale red lights, "a challenge. But nothing I can't handle..."

Trowa turned to look at him and sighed, one green eye showing his fatigue.

"Be serious, Duo. There's more than just money riding on this."

"I know that. But you know you can trust me...when have I ever failed one of these little 'missions', huh?"

The unibanged youth turned his eyes back towards the fortress-like structure, defeated.

"Not one, yet. But be careful. I have a feeling that there's more waiting for us inside than we think."

The braided boy turned to look at him sharply.

"You seen anything?"

"Nothing. But I just have an odd feeling about this entire thing...watch your back in there."

Duo saluted, then checked his watch.

"Time to go," he muttered as he swung himself over the edge. "Wish me luck!"

"Good luck," the remaining youth murmured as his friend disappeared from view. "I hope to the gods you won't need it."

Clothed entirely in black, the God of Death moved silently across the rubbish-strewn street and paused behind a dead bush a short distance away from the office. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated...a moment later, the blinking red lights of the scanners dimmed and the soft _whirr_ of camera gears turning stopped. Duo allowed himself a moment of satisfaction, then crept out of the sickly street lights and into the darkness of the quiet building. After a little tinkering, the lock gave, and the thief edged inside, then closed the thick glass door with a soft_ click_. He hurried away from the lobby, and let the scanners return to full power. The cameras he left in limbo, however; those would prove to be much more of a problem than the microchip sensors. His particular chip signature would have brought all the cops within five miles running; and along with those cops, worse things would come. Shaking off such thoughts for now, Duo moved deeper into the building, intent on his goal: information.

Ever since the War, things had steadily gotten worse. Only a few large countries remained, and ruled with iron fists. Most of the populace was poor; a few rich citizens existed, scattered in handfuls throughout the world, but for the most part Earth had become a place of despair. To keep track of people who kept trying to immigrate to other countries, or to secret places, places of exile that were more like paradise, the microchips had been invented. Every citizen in every remaining country got one at birth; they had been in existence for about seventy years now. Occasionally the poor avoided being chipped, if they were careful, and if they kept the pregnancy secret. The lucky children could escape without setting off the alarms in every building in the world; special sensors had been built into the doors to keep criminals out of business and to keep citizens prisoners. The world had fallen into a terrible state. The dictators of each country made sure that the brutal cycle of poverty continued, and no hope remained for the common man. _Well,_ Duo corrected himself, _not all hope._

About 100 years ago, during the last major skirmish of the five surviving countries, the final nuclear weapons were used. They destroyed huge areas, but those places were needed. Almost immediately after the blasts, people began moving in. The sites became slums, and the poor were forced to live in the radiation. Anyone who became pregnant during their time there (there weren't many who did; most became sterile or died before they could give birth to the child) bore an extraordinary child. They weren't 'normal'; the radiation had affected their development, mutated them in some way. For the first eighty years or so, all the children born were horribly disfigured or born dead. But in the past twenty years in the slums, once the chemicals administered to destroy the contamination had done their job, the children born were unlike anything seen before. For the most part, they looked perfectly normal, but the change wasn't in their physical forms. Their minds had evolved, taken to the next level. The gifts given to the children varied; most were along the lines of what could be called 'psychic'. It took a very short time for the government to realize what was happening.

The gifted children could destroy everything they had worked for, could bring the people to revolt, could change the world, they all had decided. Having come to that decision, they immediately came to another one: _something must be done about this._ A secret branch of the government was formed; the Organization of the Zodiac. OZ's primary goal was to seek out and capture the 'threats'. Once captured, they were to be brought over to their side. Basically, they were to be brainwashed and trained as assassins. If they could not be captured or retrained, they were to be killed. Duo's mission was very simple: OZ was planning something. He had to find out what, when, who, and where, so they could all be far, far away when OZ played their hand. 

Returning to the present, the shadow moved quickly down the halls, searching for his objective. He had a feeling he was very close, when, from somewhere on his left, he heard a soft moan. Pulling a long, wicked-looking knife from his side, he tiptoed over to the door and listened. There it was again, low and pained. Duo quickly picked the lock, pocketed his tools and slowly, slowly turned the knob and pushed. He gasped softly at the sight before him: A boy, who looked no older than himself, was sitting in a chair, battered and bruised. His chest was a mass of cuts and scars, and his dark hair was matted with blood. Handcuffed and tied to the chair, he was totally helpless. 

"Subject 1129; Heero Yuy," his savior muttered, reading from a chart left on the wall. Tossing it aside, he hurried over to the boy and untied his legs, then manipulated the handcuffs into letting him go. "Come on then, Heero...let's get you outta here...the hell they'd do to you..."

Duo pulled Heero onto his feet, then let the invalid lean on him for support. He was heavier than he looked. "Hurry up, man...I've got a schedule I need to stick to..." With some effort, the braided teen was able to move out into the hallway and picked up his mission again. _Should be somewhere around here...ah. That's it._ In front of him was a door, fundamentally the same as the others, but far stronger and locked with a keycode.

"Simple enough," he muttered, and brushed his fingertips across the lock. It deactivated with a soft _beep_, and Duo pushed the door open. "Jackpot."

Inside there was a typical office setting; chair, desk, phone, wastebin. No papers were left sitting on the desk; it was spotless. Duo smirked. He was going to have to do this the hard way. Letting Heero rest against a wall for now, he pulled up a chair and began to type rapidly. It would take a few minutes, even with his 'skills', to break through the defenses. He had to be especially careful on this mission; no warbles, no records of his being there, nothing at all that could be traced. Heero moaned again; he was starting to wake up a little more.

"Just gimme a few more minutes, buddy, then we're outta here," the hacker muttered, not taking his eyes off the screen. The moaning turned into incomprehensible muttering, and Duo thought nothing of it. That is, until he was actually able to understand what was being said.

"...guards...coming up southern corridor...armed...leave...know you're here..."

He sprang up from his chair and stuck his head out into the hallway. Sure enough, he could hear their boots pounding, albeit softly at this distance, on the cold floors.

"Shit!" After making a snap decision, Duo tapped a few more times on the computer, then it went black. He scooped up Heero and slung him across his back, fireman-style, and opened the window. "Thank God for fussy businessmen...they've gotta have windows that open." Duo gave the room one last check, then clambered out of the window and disappeared. He hit the ground running, and sprinted for cover. It happened to be one of the most run-down shacks in the area, but thankfully it was uninhabited. The teen dropped his burden, then leaned against a wall, wheezing. 

"Bloody hell..."

"I'd agree that's accurate. You nearly got yourself killed."

The braided boy jumped, then drew his knife as a figure emerged from the shadows. He sighed in relief when he realized who it was.

"It's nice to see you too, Wufei."

The Chinese man snorted and moved into the full light.

"Cops are moving all over the city, Maxwell. We need to get back to base, quickly."

Groaning, Duo slumped against the wall.

"Gimme a second to recover?"

"Sorry, Maxwell, but that's a second we don't have." Suddenly, Heero moved from his place in the corner of the hovel and Wufei had his katana out in a flash. For some reason, he preferred it over more modern weapons. He was as lethal with his sword and limbs than most of the enemy was with guns, so the sword stayed. "Who is this?" he hissed, obviously spooked and annoyed with himself that he hadn't noticed right away.

"His name is Heero Yuy. Beyond that, I have no idea. They were holding him prisoner in there...he's the only reason I got out." Seeing Wufei's raised eyebrow, he explained. "Heero was able to hear guards moving in while I was trying to hack in. I wouldn't have heard them until the were on me. As it was, I had to run my ass off to make it here whole." Once he had finished speaking, the sounds of approaching sirens became audible, and Wufei glanced at Heero.

"We must leave, now. I will carry him; you provide cover. Trowa's already gone."

Nodding, Duo peered out the back window (nothing more than a crude hole cut in the wall, really) and pulled his gun. Knives were more his specialty, a trait he shared with Trowa, but in this instance a gun would be many times more useful. Stealth was no longer much of an issue. Wufei gently hefted the still-groggy Heero, and even to the semi-distracted Duo it was obvious he was 'lightening the load' somewhat.

"Well," he muttered, "if we're getting out of here we gotta do it now. Clear." With that, the three teenagers disappeared into the darkness, echoing footsteps the only sign they had ever existed.

::author's note::

Impossible Gundam here...or now, should I say, Christi Talmer. My split personalities and accounts have merged, so no accusations of plagarism please! I know that things are probably a little vague at this point, but ever since Alex told me about this (there's actually an RPG hosted on ezboard) idea, all I could think of was 'Wow, that would make a great AU fic'. Originally called Project Columbus, I've made a few minor modifications and added some obvious things. So...what do you think? This is my first AU, and I must admit it's a lot of fun. I'm continuing this pretty much no matter what, but I will keep up on 'The Kid' (next part is in progress...it's starting to look like something good!) while writing r.evolution. Please review; you wouldn't believe the rush it gives me to know someone likes my writing. And also...when I know someone likes the way I write, I'm much more likely to write some more. Catch my drift? I think I've rambled on enough for now...see ya on the other side! (Or possibly the internet. The next chapter, maybe. Who knows?)

~_Christi_


	2. Heero

::disclaimer::

gundam wing and all affiliated characters, symbols, etc. belong to Sunrise and the Soutsu Agency. the author claims no ownership and no trademark infringement is intended in the publication of this piece of fiction.

::author note::

Well...here it is, Chapter Two! Sorry it's taken me so long...let me be the first one to tell you that school can truly suck when you're actually in the mood to write, and some random English teacher won't let you. Nothing against my teacher personally, of course; she seems like a really cool person, but I'm just sitting in her class scratching out lines whenever she's not looking...*sigh* But here it is anyway. I _know_ things are still a little vague (I'm the effin' author, and I think it's vague, even subconsciously filling in the blanks), but I promise it'll be clearer in the next two chapters or so...Enjoy! And don't forget to review. I love feedback.

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"We must leave, now. I will carry him; you provide cover. Trowa's already gone."

Nodding, Duo peered out the back window (nothing more than a crude hole cut in the wall, really) and pulled his gun. Knives were more his specialty, a trait he shared with Trowa, but in this instance a gun would be many times more useful. Stealth was no longer much of an issue. Wufei gently hefted the still-groggy Heero, and even to the semi-distracted Duo it was obvious he was 'lightening the load' somewhat.

"Well," he muttered, "if we're getting out of here we gotta do it now. Clear." With that, the three teenagers disappeared into the darkness, echoing footsteps the only sign they had ever existed.

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"I wonder where they could be? Wufei went out after them hours ago, and the sirens have stopped..." Sally fretted as she shut the old, decaying door on the sunrise. Quatre, affected by his comrade's anxiety, began to pace.

"They're fine, Sally. Probably taking the long way back, to make sure they haven't been followed."

A tall girl with short, curly brown hair waltzed down the stairs, seemingly unaffected by the tension in the room.

"Trowa's outside," she commented, then strolled back out. A moment later, the lanky youth walked in as predicted.

"Have the others come back yet?" he asked, peering around the room. After a series of "no"s, he sighed and sat down on one of the ragged, decrepit old sofas.

"I told Duo to be careful...I hope he's listened to me."

The air retained its tense electricity as silence fell on the group, and they all jumped as the old door banged open and Duo entered.

"Hullo everyone! Didja miss me?"

Another voice sounded from behind the boy.

"Duo! Kisama! Get out of the way!"

He did as he was bid, and Wufei entered, carrying a still, almost lifeless body. The Chinese teen gave Sally an imploring look, and she nodded.

"Bring him upstairs...I'll see what I can do."

He took another few steps, then grunted.

"Trowa, could you give me a hand with this? I've been carrying him for an hour, and he's heavier than he looks."

Silently, he acquiesced, and together the two boys moved him up the stairs. Sally followed, and Duo left the room to wash up. Quatre's gaze followed the medical group worriedly, and he muttered to the now-empty room,

"There's something funny about all of this. I hope everything turns out okay..." Resigned, he too went upstairs, to see if there was anything he could help with.

"...going to do, Sally's out and this guy's gonna be real sore when he wakes up..."

"...care, Maxwell...drugs. There's more risk in giving _that _to him than..."

"...show up soon, Hilde's gone for him, maybe he can help Heero..."

Groaning, the bedridden teenager slowly opened his eyes. The sickly glow of the streetlights trickled in through the rags serving as curtains, and he could hear voices downstairs. Wincing at the assorted cuts, bruises, and other injuries he had sustained (_from what?_ he thought briefly), the boy tried vainly to sit up. Hissing at the sudden pain in a dozen points all over his body, he fell back onto the sheets, exhausted by the minor effort.

"I see you're awake," someone commented from the shadows. The patient snapped his gaze around to see his companion, and a tall, thin boy emerged from the dark corner he was been sitting in. The slender brunette regarded him seriously, almost as if looking for something. Intense, glittering green eyes met confused, stormy blue, if only for a moment. The penetrating gaze made the boy uncomfortable, and he shifted in the bed.

"Sorry for asking...but who the hell are you?"

Chuckling, the youth relaxed his stare and strolled over to the side of the infirm's bed.

"Trowa. Trowa Barton."

"How did I get here? What happened?"

Trowa sighed, then retrieved his chair from the corner and sat.

"We found you in an OZ building...well, specifically, Duo found you. We don't know how you got your injuries. Don't you remember any of it? Duo swears you were at least partially awake during your escape."

Frowning, the boy tried to remember. There were a few fleeting moments he could recall; soldiers storming the hall, being carried by two different people whose faces and names he couldn't place, and a fierce, constant ache that seemed to extend all over his body.

"I...don't...remember..." Realizing the importance of this confession, he began to tremble.

"I don't remember anything." Numb with disbelief, the teen stared at the ceiling for a moment, then let his eyes close.

"Nothing..." he murmured, numb with disbelief. He heard Trowa sigh, then lean back in his chair. The stairs creaked with someone's approach; the amnesiac was far beyond caring who it might be.

"Nothing, Zechs. He can't remember...he's a clean Phase II."

Another sigh, then suddenly a cool hand was placed on his forehead. Dark blue eyes flew open in surprise, only to be met with a pair of mirroring blue. The newcomer (_Zechs_, his mind added stubbornly) had pale skin, long blond hair, and the hardened look of someone who has seen more than his fair share of suffering. The expression on Zechs' face was sympathetic and somewhat sad, but he calmed the boy somehow. Satisfied with his connection, the man began to speak.

"Rest, Heero. Your questions will not go unanswered for long...but first let your body heal. Answers are coming. Sleep."

He obeyed without argument. A single, pure, free thought drifted into his mind before he succumbed to the irresistible waves of sleep washing over him. A soft smile crossed his face, then he passed into the unconscious.

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My name is Heero.

When Heero woke up the second time, wispy sunlight was streaming in the windows, and there was no one upstairs with him. Sounds floated into the room from the street; yelling, bartering, the _clank_ of metal against metal, and the occasional squealing of tires against the pavement. He tested his limbs carefully, then slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. The teen was pleasantly surprised to find that the ache was nearly gone; the bruises were fading, and the cuts were well on their way to healing, he could see. Deciding to test his luck a little, Heero stood...a little to quickly, it would seem. After a little wobbling, he regained his footing, and proceeded down the rickety old staircase. It was slow going, due to the stiffness in his joints, but it gave him his first good view of the house. It was little more than a shack, really; the walls were okay, with only very small holes, but it was obvious there were structural problems. It was plain, splintered wood, and someone's idea of a joke had been to hang a 'Home, Sweet Home' plaque on the wall. The few windows there were, were cracked, broken and mainly boarded up. The doors to other rooms had broken off- parts of them were still attached to the rusted hinges- and the ancient laminate flooring was stained past recognition. Heero sighed. It wasn't much, but for now, it was all he had; for some reason, the house _felt_ right. He couldn't explain how, exactly; it was just a feeling he had. At that moment, his thoughts were interrupted.

"Oi! Guys! He's awake! How're you feeling, Heero-my-man?" An overly cheerful, braided youth threw a friendly arm around his shoulders, and steered him towards an unbalanced old couch. It was leaning into a wall for support, but the boy threw himself onto it with relish and waited for 'the guys' to come in. Heero could only assume that the Trowa he had spoken to earlier was one of them. He didn't have long to wait; seconds later, a large, ragtag group began walking in. First came a small, smiling blonde; then a severe-looking Chinese boy he vaguely remembered seeing somewhere; Trowa and what seemed to be a twin sister; a smiling woman with short, dark hair; and another woman, this time with golden hair in twin braids.

"Introductions!" the apparent leader of the group announced gleefully, then began. "The two that look alike- yeah, that's them- are Trowa and Catherine. They're twins, Trowa is precog and Cathy is retrocog. Our own little Psychic Friend hotline. Next...the blonde is Quatre-"

The newly-introduced Quatre cut his friend off.

"Hello-"

"Later, Quat...the first gal, with the black hair...mmhmmm...that's Hilde, don't mess with her or I'll have to kill you..." Hilde giggled at this, and the boy continued. "The pissed-off looking one is Wufei..."

"Watch it, Maxwell," he growled, and the antagonist grinned, then picked up his list again.

"...and let me be the first to tell you a pissed-off telekinetic is _a bad thing_. Sally is the one who's supposed to keep him whipped, but she's sleepin' on the job right now. She's our resident biokinetic." He smirked, then looked around, trying to decide if he was finished. Something crossed his mind all of a sudden, and he snapped his fingers. "Oh! Almost forgot." He extended a hand towards Heero, grinning. "Name's Duo Maxwell. I may run and hide, but I never tell a lie. And that's the crew..."

Heero, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of this, smiled halfheartedly.

"...Nice to meet you all."

The one named Quatre smiled back, and stepped forward.

"If there's anything we can help with...anything at all..."

"We're your men!" Duo finished, then added on (with glares from Sally, Catherine and Hilde), "and women!"

::author note take two::

Sorry if this one's a little short! Here's a little crazy rambling for you...courtesy of my psycho brother...

"The Gundam Guys invade Wal-mart! No, seriously! And Quatre loses his little-goggle-thingies, and has to get a pair of the shark ones...with the fins...Wufei visits the fishies and moans about the dishonor of caging animals, goes on a spree and 'frees' them all...Duo runs over the greeters in one of those Barbie cars...Heero checks out the guns and accidentally shoots someone...it'd be a riot! You should write it!"

But oh, it gets better.

"Then, you could write a sequel! They went to K-Mart or Wal-Mart or Target or whatever...nah, Wal-Mart, I kinda like Target...well, they went because they were going on _vacation_. To _Disney World_. Or something. And Trowa+Duo jump the dudes in the animal suits, and run wild through the park...Heero terrorizes the midway...Duo drags Quatre onto the rollercoasters, and Quat hates 'em...Heero 'fixes' the rides 'cause they're too slow, then Quat gets on...they get kicked out, of course..."

Oh, the horror. But it's STILL not over...he went on about going back to their hotel ("Stealing Quatre's credit card for room service! Cannonballing into the pool from the top floor! Quatre in water wings!"), getting kicked out of the hotel and going to a casino ("Wufei dealing poker, Quatre getting REALLY drunk and signing up to be a male stripper, Heero and Trowa getting dragged into...well, a drag contest...or maybe Sigfried and whoever the hell that other guy is...Duo laughing his ass off the whole time..."), _then_ getting kicked out of the casino and going to Sally Po's (pronounced really fast, like "Sallipo", and all one word...she's never "Sally" at my house) house...where all the G-girls happen to be...need I elaborate further? I think the Applebee's waiter was trying to spike my drink and got his instead, or maybe he was trying to spike my bro's drink? 

...

...

...Maybe I should stop while I'm ahead. Hope you got at least a couple laughs out of that...he and I were getting some truly funny looks the first time we discussed it. Well, now I'm really done rambling. Please review...if you don't, Duo and Wufei and I will come out after you, tie you to the bed and tickle you senseless until you give us some feedback. *innocent smile* So, no problems, right? Ja ne!

~_Christi, aka the Impossible Gundam_


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